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'The Chestnut Thief' by Ben Matthews

So here's that story: this guy ends up sellin' these chestnuts, like
really good, primo chestnuts, year round– pushes around a cart downtown,
roasts them for you right there on the spot. Gives you a warm brown
paper bag full of them, and they are fucking delicious let me tell you.
Toasted black, shells falling apart in your hand- and the meats sweet
and smokey and soft. Anyways, so like one day I ask him, "Hey Chuck"
everyone calls him Chuck, I don't know what his full name was, I say,
"Hey, these fucking chestnuts are fucking good, Chuck, but I can't
figure out how you sell em so fucking cheap." I mean like I see em at
the store sometimes, unroasted, and they cost like twice what Chuck
gives em for. And he says to me, with this cutsie fake little cockney
accent he pulls out every now and again, he says, "Georgie O'Kieffe, me
boy, I don't fuckin afta tell ye, and I don't eva do what I don't fuckin
afta." Real cute, the guy is, and off he pushes his cart and up the
street, yelling in this fake cockney accent still, "Get ya hot chessies,
now boys, lighten me load!" But I found out soon after that from Donald
Dicks at the station that Chuck got a boss and that that boss were a
real piece of work. Had him lotsa vendors in town, mostly all young
kids, like orphans and such, and beat em up pretty regular if they
didn't make the nut. And that still got me thinking, why's Chuck selling
these primo fuckin chestnuts so fuckin cheap and how's he dealing with
this guy he's got on. I'm just a harbor beat cop, a glorified security
guard but still I get curious and I happened to like Chuck for all his
charm and eccentricities, what-have-you. So I got off work kinda early
one day and followed him to an alley where the vendors all usually
congregate after hours or on slow days, inclement weather etcetra. And I
ducked into the cover of an awning and up a stoop to see him park his
cart right next to the fruit cart mule, Curly. He looks around, and then
after a bit he kneels down and starts pawing around behind Curly's
massive hind legs and gathering something into a mound and then pulling
off smaller bits, Pattin em into balls and tossing them into his cart.
Another vendor rolls in, Stan the "A Hotdog" guy, and Chucky pretends to
be tying his shoes, but when Stan gets past 'im he goes right back to
pulling these balls off this soft mound in the street and tossing them
discreet into his cart. Well I just don't know what the fuck and along
comes the big man and starts cussing him up one side and down the other
and Chuck's just there smiling like he's hearing the sweet sermon and
big man goes to and raises his cane and just then Chuck pulls out a wad
of bills and tosses it to big man who falls nearly over and harrumphs
and has to stoop to pick up a few bills and he waddles away grumbling
about this smart-ass he's gonna let have it. And Chuck checks out the
inside of his cart and I guess now he figures he's got enough and packs
it in, pushing his cart outta sight. I go home and next day I see him
down at sports center and I say straight up "I'll have one free bag of
horse shit, if you please." He gets taken aback for a second, looking
like he don't know or what. But I smile at him, I says "Hey, man I'm
just kiddin, I gladly pay full price for horseshit around here, you know
that." And he busts out laughing like I just told him the one about Old
Lady Train, and gives me my bag, "No charge, Sarge," he tells me with
that fucking stupid accent of his, and moves on up the street, maybe a
little faster than usual, I don't know. But I ain't never seen him
since, and I ain't never had a chestnut as good as when Chuck made em,
and no one's ever replaced him.

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